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the one were I pass the time with the bare minimum of movement

Poldark marathon, nothing cures a back like 6 hours of Robin Ellis riding thru the Cornish country side and poking about looking for veins of copper. I now have saddle sores and the inclination to go smuggling French brandy from the Customs men.

Obsessively tracking my completed course registration forms (yeah!) on their merry way back to Blighty via UPS…Manhattan to Philly to Derby (of all places to land in the UK) and hopefully onto London tomorrow morning.

Day dreaming, navel gazing, philosophising. Does my place of work still exist if I am not there?

Chatting to mum about her new decking, and watching my brother’s latest 30 sec video update on their gardening adventures.

Sending sporadic, yet informative, progress reports via text to Alex.

Gingerly taking trips to the loo and kitchen, attempting to close the window and unsuccessfully looking for the take out menu.

Getting a bit further into Gaskell’s North and South. I fear that the 19th century mill owner may be my downfall.